


seeing the world through your eyes

by itsallAvengers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: ADD/ADHD Tony Stark, Ableist Language, But Steve Learns dw, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Tony And Steve! Being Healthy! Discussing their Issues! Anyway as you can tell this is an au lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 10:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16532855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: Sometimes Tony does things that Steve doesn't really understand. Turns out, there's a reason for that. But it's not really one that Steve is all too aware of, what with him being from the forties and all. Back then, they would've called it laziness.Now, apparently, it's ADHD.Steve's still got a lot to learn about the future. And his boyfriend. But never say Captain America isn't up for the challenge.





	seeing the world through your eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avengersandco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengersandco/gifts).



> This is for Bridget, who asked me for a fic about Tony dealing with ADHD, and some miscommunication with Steve about what exactly that means. I really hope this is what you were looking for!

Tony Stark was, in the eyes of 98% of the public, what one would consider a complete and utter enigma.

He was an accumulation of opposites. Brash and yet kind, rude but also gentle, flashy but inconspicuous. People often asked Steve how he dealt with it all. A simple man like him, paired with the whirlwind that made Tony Stark? It just seemed absurd. Shove a man like Tony under the limelight and ask him a crass question or two, and the man would just stare lewdly and then answer in a way that left the audience in shock. Do that to Steve Rogers? He would probably implode right on the spot.

Being with Tony was difficult in that sense; especially when he got asked at least three times a day what the sex was like by some rude person on the street. But it was worth it, to be able to come home to the man and curl into him like he belonged there. To be privileged enough to know Tony’s night-time routine, to be able to put his hands through his hair, to share showers and make him breakfast and know how he looked when he came. They were all things that Steve wouldn’t want to give up for the world. He knew that it had only been a few months, but he’d fallen fast and he’d fallen hard. It had been a long time coming, if he was being honest. Tony was… well, he had always been something else. From the moment Steve had met him. And it had been what had drawn him in in the first place- that sense of mystery, the curiosity, the shy smile and the fast words. Steve had been enchanted. Still was, even now. He didn’t think that part would ever get old.

 

Some parts, however, were slightly more annoying. For instance, his time management.

 

Steve looked down at his watch, grinding his teeth together as he saw that it was now forty minutes and Tony had still yet to arrive at the Gala with him. He’d said he’d be there. Steve had _asked_ him to be there, and when he’d left that morning Tony had had his tux out in preparation and everything. And yet when Steve had showed up, Tony was no-where to be seen, even though he’d said that he’d meet Steve at the function. No calls, no texts, nothing. And Steve wasn’t at the point where he was worrying; not quite yet, because this was unfortunately not the first time that Tony had pulled something like this, but…

He was supposed to be here, Steve was nervous and Tony knew that and _he’d said he’d be here, dammit._

Taking in a small breath, he carefully placed his champagne flute back down on the counter and then composed himself. There were another forty minutes until he had to stand up in front of this audience and give his speech. He’d done it plenty of times before. And yeah, big crowds made him nervous and shaky and on-edge and he _really_ hated having to talk to them, but that didn’t mean that he _needed_ Tony to be holding his hand the entire time. It was just that Tony knew what to say, how to calm him down, and he always made Steve feel like he was a little more confident.

That was, when he bothered to stick to his promises and show up.

Wearily, Steve looked around the room once more. No sign. At this point, Steve just had to accept that Tony was simply not going to show up. He’d probably been caught in a work emergency or something that he couldn’t afford to miss. Not Avengers stuff though- Steve had made sure to check. And he got it, too- Tony was CEO of one of the busiest businesses in the world. Sometimes situations needed to be handled.

But really- it wasn’t asking much to just be informed about it first. That was probably what Steve was most upset about.

Carefully dodging any wandering hands or interested eyes, Steve tucked himself away into a corner with a small glass of water and a tray of hors d'oeuvre’s, mentally going through his speech again and trying not to think about the absence of any familiar faces in the room. He couldn’t help but glance at the doors every now and then, checking to see if Tony had walked through them at any point, but there was no show.

He sighed, pulling out his phone to text, just one more time, in case Tony had picked up but simply not looked at his phone. He knew it was pretty pointless though. Even if Tony got the message, he wouldn’t get there in time.

Steve loved him, he did- but dam if he wasn’t a goddamn nightmare sometimes.

Shutting off his phone and shaking his head angrily, Steve shoved it back into his pocket and then placed his tray and glass back on a nearby table. He had another ten minutes before he was supposed to get up on stage, but he might as well just get it over with a few minutes early. Tony clearly wasn’t showing up, so there was no point in waiting around.

He made his way over to the wings, shook a few hands and then smiled tightly when someone took a photo of him. The light shone obnoxiously in his eyes, sending little stars buzzing across his vision, but he kept his pleasant face up and then leaned down to accept the kiss on the cheek from the charity founder who was going to walk on stage with him.

 

All in all, the speech really wasn’t as bad as he’d been thinking it was in his head. He stumbled a few times, and felt his cheeks blushing crimson throughout the whole thing, but he got through it. The light that shone in his eyes the whole damn time did kind of help to block out the huge crowds that were in front of him- although probably just made his patchy, sweating face look even worse.

God, he really hated public speaking.

But after ten minutes, his role was done. He had survived, and no one had laughed. Of course they hadn’t- it was stupid of him to even be worried that he would. These weren’t freezing cold & demoralised soldiers from the forties who were looking at some loser in a felt suit- these were socialites who saw a national icon standing in front of them. He’d been ridiculous about the whole thing.

He walked off-stage quickly, smiling the best smile he could give over to the cameras and trying not to squint at their brightness. Once more people swarmed him, asking to shake his hand and congratulate him and strike up conversation, but he kept his presence sparing and moved on as quickly as he could. He wasn’t in the mood to stay for much longer.

 

And of course, it was in that moment that he felt the familiar feeling of an arm as it slid around his waist.

 

“You did amazing up there, sweetheart,” Tony told him happily, and Steve looked down at him in surprise, “sorry I didn’t make it earlier. It was just one of those days- I lost track of time completely. That one’s on me.”

Steve blinked at him incredulously, holding his tongue to keep from just snapping at him right then and there in front of all the cameras. He hadn’t even seen Tony come in, let alone gotten a text to say that he would even be on his way.

Steve had a hundred things he wanted to say, but he didn’t intend to say it in front of a dozen prying reporters. Instead, he simply said nothing at all, plastering on the same fake smile to his face as he began to move through the crowds once more. He felt Tony resist by his side, and turned to raise a cold eyebrow his way.

Tony looked confused. “Where are you headed, hey? Buffet’s that way.”

“I,” Steve said as pleasantly as he could manage, “am going home. I’m done for the night.”

Tony looked confused for a moment, clearly thrown off by Steve’s blunt tone- but then something must have clicked in his head, because the smile faltered. “Oh,” he said, blinking, “oh, you’re mad.”

Steve glared at him, knowing that the cameras were all still trained on him. _Don’t shout, don’t shout, don’t shout,_ he told himself. How the fuck had Tony not considered that Steve would not feel hurt by Tony’s lack of appearance? He’d been nearly two hours late.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, head down and avoiding the cameras and hands that tried to reach out for him. He felt Tony’s presence hurry behind him, and although part of him just wanted to tell him to fuck off and stay at the party seeing as he’d (finally) gotten himself all done up for it- the more mature part knew they probably needed to talk this out.

Although that wasn’t exactly what happened once they got into the cab. Steve looked out of the window stubbornly, not knowing how to speak without it turning it into a screaming match that tended to blow up between him and Tony when one of them got too angry. Tony himself attempted conversation a few times, and by this point Steve could tell he was somewhat nervous, but Steve just gave him short answers until eventually he gave up and looked out of the other window as well.

This continued all the way up until they both got into their room, and Steve wordlessly walked over to the cupboard to pull out a spare blanket and pillow.

He heard Tony stop. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping on the couch,” Steve told him gruffly, yanking the pillow out with some rather excessive force.

He heard Tony sigh. “Steve-“

“No, Tony, don’t fuckin ‘Steve’ me like I’m being the one out of line here,” Steve spun on his heel and pointed a finger at him angrily, “two hours, Tony. You were two hours late. I was waiting for you all that time. You were supposed to be there for me and you weren’t, and now I’m pissed. So yeah. I’m sleeping on the fucking couch.”

Tony looked at him and bit his lip. “I know, dick move, I really am sorry, but there was just… me and Bruce got really soaked up in this new idea that had been proposed whilst some of his buddies down at the Hadron Collider, and we wanted to test it out and I had no idea what time it is and I didn’t really think that you’d be bothered too much-“

“You _know_ how much this sort of shit gets me stressed, Tony!” Steve threw up his hands in exasperation, “you always…. You promised me. You goddamn-“ he shook his head and huffed, “-two fucking hours. God, why did you even bother to show up at all?”

“Because I wanted to support you!”

“If you gave a damn about supporting me then you would have goddamn come and fucking done that when you'd promised you would!” Steve yelled, “God, do you even give a shit at all?”

Tony froze, blinking rapidly. “Steve, I just… I got caught up, you know what I’m like, I couldn’t help it, it’s not that I don’t-“

“Goodnight, Tony,” Steve said with a sigh, suddenly just too tired to carry this on. He shook his head and looked across to the door, slipping fluidly past Tony before his boyfriend could say anything else on the matter. He was hurt and angry, but he didn’t want to say anything that he would truly regret here. He felt he may already have gone too far with his previous comment. Tony looked pretty hurt.

He’d apologize. Later. For now, he just wanted to go to damn sleep and forget about the whole night.

He shut the door with a soft click and shut his eyes for a moment, before sighing and then making his way into the living room.

What a brilliant fucking night.

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

They made up, of course. Tony hadn’t even been able to stay in his room alone for more than an hour without coming down and sitting on the floor next to Steve’s head and quietly apologizing. Steve was still moody, but it was hard to stay that way when Tony looked so genuine. His eyes were like a goddamn puppy’s, for fuck’s sake.

Tony made it up to him the next day by lavishing him with attention. And then the next, and the next, and the one after that too. Steve appreciated it, loved him for it, and let go of any anger that remained over it, deciding that it just wasn’t worth it and that Tony genuinely was sorry about it.

But he also began to notice… other things. His relationship with Tony was still fairly new, and they were still discovering things about eachother, and it seemed that after that particular fight, Steve’s eyes ended up getting opened a little more into the way Tony acted.

It was nothing terrible. He was unwaveringly kind, he was good, he was funny and he cared for Steve immensely. There were just… occasions. Stuff Steve couldn’t quite pin a reason to, but stuff that left him feeling annoyed and put-out all the same.

 

Like a few weeks later, for instance. Long after the fight over Tony’s terrible timekeeping had been forgotten. Tony had been in his workshop for a good few days, and Steve had been keeping him company and making sure he was fed and drinking when he could. There had been a bad fight with the Wrecking Crew a few days previously, and Steve had benched Tony because he was too injured to fight. Tony, who obviously hadn’t taken very well to that, had been sat in his workshop tinkering and sulking ever since.

Steve got that. He really did. It was hard to be out of the fight when all of your friends were out there risking everything. You wanted to help them. And the strange obsessions with his work- Steve sort of understood that too, at some level. He’d known Howard in his time, and he knew that the genius-types tended to get heavily invested in all their designs. He tried to keep Tony safe and healthy through them, but mostly just left him to it until he came out of the haze a few hours or days later.

But this one felt different. Tony was… anxious over something. Steve wasn’t sure what. But the way he was sat was just different. The relaxed nature that he usually took on when in the shop was gone, replaced with tense lines and a slightly jittering frame. He was working on something that looked fairly trivial- Natasha’s tazers, Steve figured- but whatever it was he was doing to them seemed to be proving rather difficult, and it was showing in the way Tony was reacting to it.

With a small frown, Steve decided to put his book down and wander over to Tony’s side, peering over his shoulder curiously. He’d been in the workshop for a few hours, but once he came to the end of his book he’d probably go and spend some time upstairs, so he wanted to make sure Tony was okay before he left. “How’s it going?”

Tony just grunted, lips pursed tightly. Steve looked at him with mild concern; there were deep purple bags under his eyes, and Steve wondered how much sleep he’d been getting lately. Tony could go longer than most, but even he had limits. “S’fine. This is just being a bitch to me, that’s all. I swear, it’s not supposed to- I should know how to fucking do this, come on, it’s basic shit.” Tony looked down intently at the little device in his fingers, talking to himself more than Steve.

Steve felt himself smiling wryly. Tony was probably dealing with science that most of America couldn’t hope to even fathom, and that was the stuff he considered the ‘basic shit’. He pressed a hand dramatically to his heart and gasped. “Oh no, Tony Stark, that’s it. You may as well retire right now. Simple quantum physics, and you can’t do it after three days with hardly any sleep? God forbid.”

It was a joke. It was very obviously a joke, and on any other occasion Tony would have just raised an eyebrow and given him a fond shove and a quick-witted retaliation.

But today, apparently not. Because Tony froze up completely, hands going unnervingly still against the desk as he looked up at Steve, eyes wide and… and _hurt_.

“why would you say that,” he whispered, blinking rapidly, “look, I know... I’m fucking useless okay, I know, but you don’t… Jesus, fuck, I just- I can do this, I _can_ , I swear, you don’t need to-“

“Whoah, hey, relax about it,” Steve raised his hands in bewilderment, “it was a joke, sweetheart. I know you can do it. Look, this really isn’t a big deal. It’s just a tinkering project. Come upstairs for a little, relax yourself-“

“You don’t fucking get it,” Tony snapped, suddenly irate for whatever unknown reason, “this _is_ a big deal, it matters to _me_ , I gotta get it… look, you don’t understand. Just go, Steve.”

He pulled a face. “Seriously? Tony, come on-“

“Leave!” Tony snapped, waving a hand through the air and then turning stubbornly back to his work. He looked close to fucking _tears_ , and Steve was completely bewildered as to how the situation had managed to escalate so fast over such a trivial thing.

Sensing that remaining there wouldn’t do anyone any good, Steve threw up his hands and then stormed out of the workshop irritably. For all the hours he spent down there with Tony, only to get kicked out when Tony took a comment in the completely wrong way. Steve didn’t get it. Sure, he loved Tony, but he sometimes he was just fucking _impossible_ \- especially when he hadn’t had enough sleep. His emotions went completely off-kilter, and Steve had no idea how he was supposed to deal with that.

 

He stayed up making dinner for himself, and then some for Tony if he decided to come up from his den later. In a fit of pique, he left Tony’s pasta without any of the pesto that he loved and ate the last bit for himself, before taking his plate and then sitting on the couch in the living room to catch up on the episode of ‘How to Get Away With Murder’ that he’d missed whilst he’d been out fighting.

It was a few hours later, when Steve was almost half-asleep on the couch, that he heard the sounds of Tony coming up from the elevator and stepping out into the communal area. Steve stiffened and bit back a sigh. He didn’t want to start bickering again. He was too fucking tired.

However, it seemed whatever mood Tony had been in had lessened. He clocked Steve on the couch and gave him a tired, apologetic smile. “Hey.”

Steve grunted, waving a hand. Tony swallowed nervously and then rocked back on his feet, and Steve let his eyes move back to the TV whilst Tony decided whether he was going to come over or not. He wasn’t really in the mood to be patient just then.

He heard Tony wander forward and then slowly set himself down on the couch next to where Steve was curled. His fingers tapped along the pillow as he spared a glance over to his boyfriend, and Steve returned it silently, waiting for the other man to speak.

“Sorry for being a dick,” Tony said quietly a second later, looking over at Steve bashfully, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I know you were joking. It was just… my whole RSD thing, and the lack of sleep, and then being benched was making me feel like shit anyway, I guess I just-“ he shrugged, looking down at his hands, “I overreacted. You were the unfortunate recipient of that.”

Steve frowned a little. Tony tended to throw acronyms around like he expected Steve to know what they meant, and he didn’t want to look stupid by asking what RSD was, so he just took context from the rest of what Tony was saying and then sighed. “You should just tell me if you’re not in the mood for jokes. Or company. It’d be easier on the both of us, you know.”

Tony nodded understandingly, shuffling a little on his butt. “Yeah. It’s just. I don’t know when it’s coming until it’s right there sometimes, you know? It’s hard to explain.” He laughed nervously and swallowed as he turned his head to glance out of the window. “I’m… a handful, Steve. I know I said that at the beginning, but I just wanna reiterate here, like, I know that it’s… it’s too much for a lot of people, and that’s-“

“Oh, shut up,” Steve rolled his eyes and lifted his hand, wrapping it around Tony’s waist and then pulling him in against his side. Tony went willingly, melting into his hold once more in the way that he only managed to do when he was truly exhausted, “Tony, I love you. I knew you were a handful before I decided I wanted to be in a relationship with you. I’m not gonna back out because of that now.” He looked down at Tony with a small grin and a raised eyebrow. “Anyway; it’s not like I’m the perfect boyfriend all the time either.”

Tony huffed. “Yeah, that’s true, you blanket-hogger.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you have freezing hands and feet! A man needs warmth!” Steve said stubbornly, and Tony laughed a soft laugh, kissing his shoulder with a hint of apology still on his lips.

“Thank you for putting up with me,” he murmured quietly.

Steve just rolled his eyes fondly and ran a hand through Tony’s messy hair. “Yeah, well your punishment is waiting on the counter in the form of spiceless pasta and steamed chicken. Bon appetite, darling.”

Tony looked at him with a pout, but Steve just laughed as he nudged him off the couch and onto his feet. The man probably hadn’t eaten proper food in a good 48 hours.

 

The explosion was quickly forgiven and forgotten, and once Tony had gotten a decent amount of rest, he woke up the next day and had finished Nat’s weapon within five minutes. Steve put it to the back of his mind, filing it away as just another ‘Tony Thing’ that he didn’t need to focus on.

 

Except… he sort of did.

 

Because he noticed, over the course of the next few weeks, that Tony often ended up falling into those same strange moods; the random bouts of touchiness, where it seemed almost everything could set him off and make him upset. Steve noticed that there were days, or even weeks, when Tony was barely even functioning at the minimum- time seemed to just not exist to him, there were some days were he got so fixated on a task that he didn’t leave his workshop for days and others where there was not a damn thing on earth that could get him to just calm down and focus on anything at all. Steve could deal with it, mostly- but he couldn’t help but be a little worried all the same. Especially over the past few weeks, Tony’s behaviour had been even more erratic than usual. He just… he didn’t _think_ before he did things, sometimes, and it simultaneously scared and annoyed the shit out of Steve.

He wondered whether it was the drugs they’d put Tony on after his injury back at the start of the month. It had been scary as hell- Tony’s heart had stopped completely for a few minutes, and although they’d managed to get it working again and he’d been fine within a few days afterward, he’d been on special medication ever since, just to keep it healthy and beating properly. Maybe it was also just making him a little more… manic, at the same time.

Whatever it was, Steve started to notice it more. It worried him. He didn’t want Tony to hurt himself because he wasn’t thinking straight thanks to the meds, but soon he’d be off injury-leave and back on the field, and there wouldn’t be much that Steve could do about it. Tony was an Avenger after all, and perfectly capable of looking after himself.

Mostly.

 _Hopefully_.

 

Steve noted that Tony tended to be a little calmer when he’d had a good night’s sleep, and so made sure to try and coax him into getting as much rest as he could. Which was good for the both of them, because Tony got to sleep, and Steve got to spend more than a few hours in the same bed as his boyfriend.

It didn’t stop the little things from continuing to happen, however. Tony tended, sometimes, to not know exactly when to just… stop. He’d always been a talker, and Steve loved that about him usually- but when they were in the middle of a movie that Steve found interesting and Tony just wouldn’t stop chatting about everything and anything under the sun, the irritated little ‘For God’s sake, shut _up_ , Tony’ just ended up being blurted out. And he felt guilty at the look of hurt that flashed over Tony’s face at it, but really, it couldn’t be helped. It was either him or Nat, and he figured Nat’s would probably have been more of a physical than verbal request.

Steve’s breaking point, however, was a few days after that, at a charity function for Veterans of the US military.

Steve- he hadn’t even wanted to go, not really. It always made something strange curl up on itself under his sternum, and left an unpleasant taste in his mouth when he saw all the faces of folk who would have been younger than Steve when they joined up, and were now sunken and old. But he’d gone anyway, if only to pay his respects. There had been a lot more wars since Steve had gone under. Lotta people who’d died. Captain America should be there.

And honestly, once he arrived with the rest of the team, it wasn’t bad. At all. Some of the older vets, although now in wheelchairs and carrying walkers and generally showing signs that age had done a number on them, were still vibrant and as full of life as ever, and were happy to talk to Steve about everything and anything under the sun. He quickly found himself engaged in conversation with a group of men who had seen him once when he and the rest of the Commandos had stopped by in their camp to get some rest before heading back off, and they were all happily trading stories of the war amongst themselves. One fella in particular- Jim McKinnon, he was called- had a truly lovely one, about how Cap and the Commandos had saved his life, giving him the chance to go and see his little girl being born a few days later. Steve’s heart warmed to hear it, and the man had plenty of other little anecdotes up his sleeve to entertain them with.

Except half-way through, Steve got hit by the whirlwind that was Tony.

“Okay, so listen to this,” Steve blinked and turned, looking in surprise at his partner as he materialized from seemingly nowhere, “I think that I’ve cracked the whole issue with reprogramming Clint’s arrows, and you’re never gonna fucking guess what it was it was I was missing.”

Jim blinked, pausing his speech and looking between Steve and Tony. Steve just shot him a sheepish look and then huffed, turning to Tony and raising a finger, asking Jim to give him a second. “That’s great, Tony- why don’t you go and talk to Bruce about it? Or Clint- I’m sure he’d be happy to hear his arrows got fixed.”

Steve smiled as Tony nodded, beginning to turn back around and restart the conversation he’d been having with Jim a few seconds previously. Except-

“Okay but like, you know what that means right?” Tony was bouncing on his toes, almost vibrating with excitement, “if I can get Clint’s arrows to follow a set of verbal commands without a hitch, then I can probably reprogram Nat’s stuff, your stuff- think about how much more convenient it would be if we didn’t have to sit around fiddling with buttons on the field!”

At this point, Jim was pursing his lips in annoyance, the words that he’d been about to say never quite managing to make it off his tongue. Steve bit back on the urge to snap at Tony as he looked over to the old man apologetically and then turned around once more, taking Tony by the shoulders.

“Sweetheart, that’s really fabulous, I’m so glad you worked it out, but I’m just-“

“No but guess how I did it! I was just stood there listening to Colonel Smith talk shit about his weapons and then bam! I glanced over to the fucking snack-bar and it’s like I had a damn epiphany; the answer was written in the complementary olives or some shit, but whatever it was, I’m gonna have to write this shit down or like… talk about it or something soon, or I might forget, and then I will end up smashing things which, you know, I’m guessing no one really wants. Hey, do you think that Bruce can lend me his Hulk-cage for a little bit? I'm gonna need to wrangle it off him for some experiment.”

There was a small cough to the left of them and Steve turned, looking at Jim as he smiled up at them. “I should probably let you get on with your Avengers talk then, huh?” He said with a wry lift of his eyebrow, “no place for an old man like me over here.”

“No, hey, don’t be ridiculous- Tony was just about to go over to Bruce,” Steve said, pointedly looking at Tony as he stepped forward.

Tony, apparently completely unable to take cues for some reason, just blinked. “No I wasn’t. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I- Tony, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now-“

“Yeah, but the stuff I’m talking about is really interesting! Just hear me out for a second, okay?” Tony smiled at him, completely oblivious to how rude that must have sounded to Jim.

Steve shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. By the time he opened them again, Jim was holding out a shaky hand. His eyes were soft. “Don’t worry- you kids have your talk, I should probably go do some mingling with some of the other old boys anyway. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Captain,” he said with a firm nod of his head. Steve, with no other choice but to accept that their conversation was now very much over, took it and shook firmly, giving the elderly man his best (if a little tight, by that point) smile.

“Stay safe out there, Jim.”

“Sure thing, kid, we got you protecting us. Not a thing in the world that could harm me!”

Steve laughed and waved the man off as he turned his back and shuffled away, keeping his cool until Jim left the vicinity. Tony, shockingly, was already talking again- completely unaware of the situation he’d just caused. Steve turned to him sharply, knowing that the look on his face alone would shut Tony up.

It did. “What the _hell_ was that?”

Tony paused, blinking once before looking around, seemingly for some sort of clue. “Uh- what do you m-“

“I was in the middle of talking to someone, Tony!” Steve hissed, waving his hands, “someone who hadn’t seen me in seventy years and wanted to tell me about what the war was like for him!”

Tony, finally, seemed to understand that Steve wasn’t as happy as he’d been expecting, because his own face began to fall. “I- well… I wanted to talk to you too, and I was… mine was important,” he said feebly, shrugging in a gesture of attempted nonchalance.

Steve looked at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious,” he said dumbly, “that is… the most self-centred thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Okay, wait, I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that, I was just trying to… I don’t know, in my head I just. It felt like it was more-“

“Well you felt wrong,” Steve told him sharply, looking at Tony with barely contained anger, “you just showed me up. You were _incredibly_ rude to that vet, and you were incredibly rude to _me_. Bruce was literally twenty feet away from you, and not having a conversation of any sort.” He flung out a hand and pointed sharply to where Bruce was stood awkwardly by the drinks table, alone and clearly looking for someone, probably Thor.

Tony seemed thoroughly deflated at that point. “You didn’t even want to be here,” he said weakly, “you told me yourself, I just… I assumed you’d be up for me talking to you to help you out, I didn’t-“

Steve cut him off with a wave of his hand, beginning to turn away. “Just… go talk to Bruce about it, okay,” he said defeatedly, “I need to go chat to some other people. Please don’t interrupt me like that again, unless you want to cause a public scene.”

He didn’t wait to hear Tony’s response- simply turned on his heel and marched away, hands balled into fists by his side. Sometimes, dealing with Tony’s… _Tonyness_ was incredibly difficult to do without raising his voice and feeling like he needed to tear his own hair out in frustration. For a man so good at being a people-pleaser when he wanted to, he could also be incredibly dense on other occasions.

God, Steve felt like such a prick. Poor Jim had been pushed out of his own conversation, to the point where he felt he should just leave entirely. Steve didn’t want to push in on his conversation now- he was engaged with someone else, and it would make his actions no better than Tony’s if he attempted to pull Jim back into the conversation they’d just been having previously.

 _Goddamn it_ Tony. 

 

Steve avoided Tony for the rest of the night, trying to put the annoyance out of his mind and focus on the people around him instead. He couldn’t quite stop thinking about it entirely, however, and decided that they were going to need to talk about it on the ride home. About everything, really. Tony’s actions as of late had been… unusual, and Steve wanted to get to the bottom of them before it blew up into something worse. Underlying his sense of anger was also slight worry- Tony’s impulsiveness and rash behaviour seemed, if possible, to be even worse as of late, and Steve was just worried that he was going to get himself hurt on the field if they didn’t work out what the problem was, whether it be the meds for his injury or something else entirely.

That was why, once they got into their cab to drive home a few hours later, Steve didn’t bother beating around the bush. He waited until the car was moving and the partition was up, and then turned to Tony. “You need to tell me what’s been going on recently,” he said firmly, whilst Tony just turned and raised an eyebrow in confusion, “you’re being… different. You have to see that the way you acted tonight wasn’t okay.”

Tony sighed, pressing his fingers into his head and drooping a little in his seat. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I do. But you know how it is- it’s just harder to… to control sometimes. I’m really sorry. You just- just be obvious about it if I’m pissing you off next time. Make it clear. I’m kind of dense when I’m caught up in my own head like that, and so you gotta just be blunt. Not that I’m saying it’s your fault- I know I was out of line back there, I just wasn't really thinking, I guess. I'll get a message over to the man, maybe you two can meet up again or something. But I’ll, uh, try and curb it a little in general-“

“It’s not just tonight, though,” Steve told him in concern, “you’ve been acting more… hyper, for a few weeks now. I’m worried, Tony. Is it the meds you’re on for the pain? Is that what’s making you all- all touchy and, and different?”

Tony looked at him blankly. “I’d say it was the fact that I’m _not_ on the meds right now that’s making my ADHD go nuts, Steve.”

This time it was Steve who looked blank. Tony and his damned acronyms. “ADHD?”

Tony just looked at him with raised eyebrows, like it was something Steve should know. “Yeah, Steve, my ADHD? The thing that makes me bounce off the walls some days? The thing I told you I had when you first moved in and I wanted to let you know how crazy it could get in the tower?”

When Steve continued to just look at him with an empty face, Tony’s eyebrows rose. “Oh,” he said, “you… you don’t know what it is? Did I not- shit, I can’t believe I didn’t bother explaining. Oh crap.” He laughed, suddenly relaxing in his seat, “oh, okay, so this is probably gonna clear a lot of things up, Steve, but I’ve got ADHD: Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Pretty severely, actually. It means my brain’s sorta- well- it’s wired differently to yours or neurotypical people. I get overwhelmed with sensory stuff a lot. And I don’t know when I should shut up. And, yeah, I can be pretty loud. But usually on nights like this, or times when I have to focus, I just pop some Adderall and go on my way. That’s probably why you haven’t noticed it before. ‘Cause now I’m on these meds for the heart thing, I can’t take the Adderall with it. Means I’m a bit more… twitchy, I guess.” He sunk further back into his seat. “Did I really not tell you? Shit. That’s another ADHD thing by the way- terrible memory.”

Steve looked at him, unimpressed. He’d never heard of ADHD before in his life- Tony just sounded like he was trying to use some acronym to excuse his shitty behaviour. He felt himself roll his eyes and sigh- why couldn’t Tony just admit to having flaws like everyone else?

Tony caught the annoyance, and Steve watched his face fall, the amusement slipping off his expression and turning into something far less happy. “What’s with the eye-roll?” He asked, voice going lower as he turned and sat up to face Steve.

“The eye-roll is because you need to stop trying to use every excuse under the sun and just say that you have things you gotta work on, Tony,” he answered back snappily, “I’m pretty sure millions of folk have bad memory and get overwhelmed sometimes. It doesn’t mean they get a pass to act out, so stop trying to make it out as if you do.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open in shock, and his brow furrowed, suddenly angry. “I’m not _like_ those millions of other folk, Steve, because I’m ADHD, and I go through the things that normal people feel except dialled up to eleven. It’s not my fault-“

“Of course it’s your fault if you turn up two hours late to a meeting because you couldn’t be bothered to remember, Tony!” Steve hissed, “it’s your fault if you interrupt a conversation because you feel what you have to say is more important than anyone else! Just admit that you have shit you need to work on like everyone else, and I’ll do everything I can to help you-“

“I know it’s something that I need to work on, Steve, and I try, but it’s hard _because_ of my ADHD and it would be really great if you didn’t invalidate that, thanks-“

“ADHD isn’t even a real damn thing!” Steve threw his hands into the air in exasperation, “I’ve never even heard of the fuckin’ thing before, you just throw these stupid fucking acronyms at me all the time and expect me to keep up and just blindly accept what they mean, but how the hell am I supposed to know! You’re just using it as an excuse for your crap behaviour!”

Tony looked at Steve like he’d just been hit. For the first time in possibly the entirety of their relationship, it seemed Steve had managed to make Tony Stark speechless. For some reason, Steve didn’t really feel triumphant about it though. Maybe it was because Tony looked so hurt.

Neither of them said anything, until Tony suddenly turned and flicked the button to bring the partition down. Not looking at Steve, and with a jaw clenched painfully tight, he caught eyes with the driver in the rear-view mirror. “Drop me off here, please,” he said with a brittle smile, and the driver nodded wordlessly, pulling over.

Steve looked at him. “What? Oh, come on-“

“No, Steve, I really don’t want to talk with you right now,” Tony shot Steve a betrayed look and waved a hand, unbuckling his seat-belt jerkily, “I need a breather. I’m gonna stay out for a little longer, you just go home.”

“Tony-“

 _“Don’t,”_ he hissed, eyes snapping up and glaring, “just don’t, Steve.”

And with that, he pushed open the car door and slipped out, closing it again with a sharp slam of finality. Steve just watched in despair as Tony stormed off, buttoning up his coat against the wind and shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked down the street. They were only a few minutes from home by that point, but Steve still had no idea where he was headed. He thought about going after him, but ultimately decided against it. It’d only make things worse.

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the upholstery of the car and shutting his eyes. He felt a migraine coming on, but knew it was psychosomatic. He didn’t get headaches any more. But he sure as hell still got stressed.

“Want me to keep going, Sir?” The driver asked shortly.

Steve spared another hopeless glance at Tony from the window as he walked around the corner, before sighing. “Yeah,” he muttered, “just take me home, thanks.”

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

Tony didn’t come to bed that night, and when Steve asked in the morning, he found out that he’d gotten home and gone straight to the workshop, where he’d stayed all night before heading out to SI in the early hours. Sulking, most likely. Tony tended to prefer avoiding confrontation, and work was often his solace when he and Steve had arguments.

Steve, on this one, wasn’t backing down though. He was right and he knew it; Tony couldn’t just push all his flaws off onto some handy little excuse and then expect it all to go away. Jheeze- how were they even supposed to work in this relationship if Tony could never just own up to his issues? Sure, Steve had a stubborn streak that was a mile wide, but he didn’t just shove a bunch of random letters into Tony’s face and expect them to work as viable excuses. Tony knew that Steve didn’t understand a lot of what he said, and sometimes he wondered if Tony did it on purpose. Trying to pull the wool over Steve’s eyes so that he could get away with more.

He punched the bag harder, gritting his teeth as the impact reverberated up his arm. He was being unfair. Tony wouldn’t do that; not consciously, anyway. And it was true, Steve didn’t know a lot of progressions in this new time. Maybe ‘ADHD’ _was_ a thing.

It just sounded so… flimsy. His ma would have just hit him over the head and told him he needed to buck up his ideas if he’d tried to explain to her what Tony had been telling him last night. Steve, before the serum, had had a terrible memory too. But it was something that he’d made a conscious effort to get better with, and over time he’d stopped showing up late for events, he’d started remembering birthdays and other things. Surely it had to be the same for Tony?

Punch, punch, punch. Maybe the bag would tell him the answer.

After an hour, though, he realised that there was only so much hitting he could do before he actually had to try and sort through all this mess logically. The previous anger had subsided, leaving behind mostly frustration and confusion. He just wanted to know what Tony was talking about, at this point. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?”

Steve steadied the bag and looked down, sighing heavily. “Does Tony really have a proper- does he have ADHD?”

There was a small pause, then, “Mr. Stark had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder by the age of twelve years old, and has been taking prescription medication for it ever since then, yes.”

Steve froze, brow creasing immediately. “Diagnosed?” He asked incredulously, “like… by a real doctor?”

“Indeed, Captain,” JARVIS responded crisply, “I doubt his psychiatrists would have sent him to a fake one.”

The room filled with silence. Steve wasn’t quite sure what to say. He put a hand against the bag to stop the gentle swinging of it. “Can you- can you tell me what it means?” He asked eventually, voice quiet. He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “What does it, uh, do to him? Tony, I mean.”

“Captain, I’m afraid I cannot divulge in Sir’s personal details without his express permission,” JARVIS responded, voice as smooth as ever, “however I can send you some files and relevant links about the subject that you may find enlightening.”

Steve bit his lip, checking his watch. It was 3 in the afternoon by that point- still a few hours until Tony would get back. “Alright,” he said through a sigh, “thank you- I’d appreciate that.”

There was a word of affirmation, and then silence as JARVIS sent a dozen files over to Steve’s laptop. Deciding that he had no other pressing matters to attend to for the day, he made his way up to their room and pulled up a chair by his desk, flipping up the lid of his laptop in order to have a look at what he’d been given.

There were a lot more results than what he’d been expecting.

Steve blinked, looking at the deluge of information, research, whole scientific papers dedicated to the subject. It seemed that the general consensus was that yeah, ADHD was in fact a thing. In fact, it was a thing that some psychologists said affected 11% of the USA’s child population. Less common in adults, but still very much prevalent, and very much _not_ made up.

Steve swallowed. He realised that he may have messed up a little bit here.

Looking further, he found himself deeply engaged with some of the information JARVIS had sent over to him. Some of the qualities that were shown as symptoms of ADHD were shockingly familiar, and things that he saw in Tony every day. The unusual amount of focus that he would dedicate to particular tasks, and then the complete lack of regard for many others. The thing that they called RSD (and now Steve thought about it, he remembered Tony dropping that into their conversation a few weeks back) or Rejection Sensitive Disorder, that meant people suffering with ADHD sometimes felt more emotionally sensitive than other times, to the point where simple teasing could bring someone with ADHD to the point of complete mortification and sadness. Then the jumping… apparently people with ADHD moved between conversation topics ridiculously fast, and damn, if that wasn’t a perfect description of Tony Stark then he wasn’t sure what was.

The more he read, the more he related the symptoms to things he saw in Tony. Energetic, often relied heavily on coffee or caffeine to keep them focused throughout the day, tended to have trouble with time-keeping and felt emotions far more intensely than most people did. He leaned back in his chair, staring at all the information in front of him in bewilderment.

God. Talk about putting his foot in his damn mouth. All these psychiatrists and scientists definitely weren’t making this up. The millions of people who were diagnosed with it weren’t making it up either. So obviously Tony wasn’t.

Wow. Steve really was a fucking idiot, wasn’t he?

He sighed, leaning forward onto the desk and putting his head in his hands. He still couldn’t say that he understood half of what this all meant, but he sure as hell knew that if anyone could be diagnosed with it, it was probably Tony. And JARVIS himself had confirmed that this was a doctor’s opinion, not just Tony’s own.

Steve rubbed his eyes. He had a lot of making up to do here. And he was going to have to start with working out how he was going to support Tony as much as he could through whatever this was. Even if it didn’t make sense to him, he still loved Tony, and it was important that Steve was there for him. He knew Tony would do the same for him.

 _‘How to help people with ADHD’_ he searched up in google, and got to work with finding out everything he could.

 

It was only when he heard the door opening and a suitcase dropping heavily on the floor that he realised he’d ended up falling asleep at the desk, because the noise was what made him sit bolt upright, blinking rapidly and looking around the room in surprise. He hadn’t even been aware that he’d drifted off at all- but when he glanced at the watch, he saw it was already 9pm. He’d been sat at his desk for pretty much a solid six hours.

Tony looked at him in confusion. “Steve,” he said with a frown, “why… why were you napping on the desk? The bed is… It’s right there, Steve.”

Hastily, he turned and shut his laptop, but Tony was already walking forward and there was no way for him to clear up the rest of his mess. He’d printed off a bunch of sheets and made some notes on his sketchpad, and Tony’s eyes fell on it immediately, head cocking in interest as he looked at what Steve was doing. With a lack of anything better to do, Steve just neatened up some of his piles of papers and clipped them together, then turned back to Tony with the aim of trying to explain himself.

Tony got in first. He was staring intently at the little mind-map Steve had sketched out, fingers tracing his name in the middle. “You’re researching,” he stated quietly, “about ADHD.”

Steve nodded, picking up his pencil and fiddling with it nervously. “I’d like to start off by saying I’m sorry,” he began, watching the pencil twirl through his fingers, “I was a dick. I had never- I’m still learning, about all this new stuff. About all the science behind things we used to just brush off and call somethin’ else. I didn’t think, and I should have. The way you feel matters a lot to me, Tony, and I just… yeah. I’m sorry.”

He felt Tony’s gaze settle onto the side of his face and decided to bite the bullet, looking back at him unwaveringly. “I’m just doing some research now. I can’t say I really get it, but I’m gonna- I’ll be there for you and I’ll try and be more accommodating now I know.”

Tony was quiet beside him, and Steve looked down nervously once more, taking the pencil to the corners of his sheet of paper and then shading them in while he waited.

“How long have you been here?” Tony asked eventually, clearing his throat and then looking around the room, not waiting for Steve to answer before he asked, “JARVIS, how long has he been here?”

“By my count, he has been in his room for 6 hours and fourteen minutes, and doing research for exactly 5 hours and 58 minutes.”

Steve felt his cheeks heat. Tony must think he was really stupid, having to spend that much time just looking at one subject topic. “I just wanted to try and understand,” he muttered weakly, running  a hand through his hair.

Tony huffed in amusement. Steve thought he was laughing at him, until a hand settled gently over Steve’s shoulder and brushed across his neck with delicate fingers. “Thank you,” Tony told him, his voice serious, “that means a lot, Steve. Really. I… people don’t often, uh, do that. For me. And I know that I should have explained it better to you earlier on, rather than just assuming you’d know what it means. And I’d just like to clarify: I’m not using ADHD as an excuse. I’m just using it as an explanation for some of the shit that might annoy you. That doesn’t mean that it’s okay, or that you’re not allowed to be angry about it, but sometimes I just… I can’t help it. I just react to situations differently to you and other people, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve nodded and turned, taking his hand, “I know, I’m sorry. I was just angry. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Tony squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I shouldn’t have acted like a dick to you and your buddy,” he said back, biting his lip, “sorry about that, again. I just. I dunno. At the time it just made sense to me. That I needed to talk to you more than anyone else in the room did. But if I’m- when I act out like that, or I’m not taking cues, you just have to be clear with me, Steve. Tell me that I need to calm down, or need to stop talking for a little while. Don’t even bother trying to be subtle about it, because it won’t sink in. I don’t want to be an inconvenience, and contrary to popular belief, I really don’t actively try to be.” He made a face, looking sheepish. “I know it’s going to be annoying. I’m a handful, I told you before-“

“And I told you right back, I love you.” Steve tugged on Tony’s hand, pulling him down and in for a kiss. “This is just something that we are going to have to talk about, work out together. I’d like to know… more. About how it is for you. So that I know how to help. What I’m supposed to do, and how we can work things out to solve any problems it might bring up, you know.”

Tony licked his lips and then stepped forward, hands carding through Steve’s hair somewhat nervously. Steve rested his forehead against Tony’s stomach and curled his arms around the other man’s slim waist, holding him tight.

“People don’t-“ Tony broke off, his voice quiet, almost cracked down the middle. Steve frowned, looking up at his face. Tony was staring intently at the wall, something indiscernible on his face. “Most people don’t usually- uh- want to hear it. If I’m being honest.”

Steve grinned at him, lifting Tony’s T-shirt up with his fingers and leaning up to place a kiss against the cool metal of the reactor. “I don’t think either of us are ‘most people’, sweetheart.”

At that, Tony huffed. His fingers slid downward, framing Steve’s face. “Good point,” he admitted, leaning down and taking Steve’s hand into his own. With a small tug, Steve followed where Tony led him over to the bed, and they both sat down opposite one another, Tony with his legs crossed in front of Steve and fiddling nervously with the folds under the bed. After a second, Steve placed his own hands down over them and shuffled his butt a little closer, until their knees were touching.

“So,” Tony nodded, looking up at him with a small smile, “where’d you wanna start?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [seeing the world through your eyes (PODFIC)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19770874) by [tonystark_tm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystark_tm/pseuds/tonystark_tm)




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